Two Captains, No Ship
by Nytd
Summary: Random contemplation of what it might be like if our two favorite pirate captains were marooned together on a certain island. Written as a present for FreedomOftheSeas. Merry Christmas!
1. Chapter 1

This was written after spending way too much time chatting with FreedomOftheSeas about our two favorite pirate captains. Merry Christmas, Marcella! I hope you enjoy it! :)

**Chapter One**

--

Hector Barbossa stood just where the gentle surf tossed bits of shell and seaweed on the white sand as the waves lapped lazily at the shore, and stared into the distance at the shrinking silhouette of the black ship, utterly undone.

The unthinkable had happened, and it had left him nearly in a state of shock.

As if being thrown off his ship for the very first time in his long, lucrative, illustrious career wasn't bad enough....as if having to suffer the indignity of swimming a quarter mile to the nearest spit of land and climbing out of the water disheveled and bedraggled was not humiliating enough....somehow the cursed Powers That Be had seen fit to make sure he hadn't been marooned alone, pouring salt in the already gaping wound in his pride.

"Worst feeling in the world, isn't it, mate?" Jack Sparrow said from where he stood dripping next to Barbossa, also contemplating the retreating _Black Pearl_.

Barbossa clenched his teeth and thought he might be willing to trade his very soul for a pistol with dry powder in it at that moment, but whether he would use it to shoot Sparrow or just shoot himself and end his misery, he wasn't entirely certain.

"Now you know how I felt both times that you left me here," Jack said, hopping around on one foot as he pulled off a saturated boot.

Barbossa said nothing but slowly turned his head to contemplate the man next to him as he struggled with the second boot, and he wondered if he could get his fingers around Sparrow's neck while he was off balance before he had time to go for his sword.

Sparrow managed to remove both boots, and headed up the beach and inland while Barbossa was still fantasizing about choking the life out of him.

The older pirate glanced out to sea once more, seeing his ship as naught but a black speck in the distance, and then turned to glance at Sparrow marching across the sand toward the few remaining trees. After another glance at the speck, followed by another glance at where Sparrow was sitting himself down in the shade, Barbossa suddenly felt overwhelmed with the implication of what had just happened and sat down unsteadily in the sand where he was.

He'd been marooned, left completely alone on a godforsaken spit of land with the biggest misfit pirate of them all.

"Better if you come sit up here in the shade!" Sparrow called out from over his shoulder, and Barbossa had all he could do to resist the urge to bury his head in his hands and rock himself senselessly where he sat.

Barbossa huffed the sad, sodden, once majestic ostrich plume out of his eyes from where it had drooped over the brim of his hat, and watched where the tiny black speck had nearly faded from view.

"There's no sense watching 'til the bitter end," Sparrow called. "It'll only be more painful when she goes."

Barbossa said nothing in reply, and Sparrow continued on.

"I can tell you. I know. Watched her sail away twice like that thanks to you," he said, removing wet weapons and laying them out on his frockcoat spread across the sand next to him. "S'not right, marooning a man like that, and certainly not twice..."

"Shut yer trap!" Barbossa snarled over his shoulder, knowing that it was unlikely to shut Sparrow up.

It didn't.

"You know," Sparrow went on, "we might be here for a while. It'd behoove you to improve your attitude since we're going to be..."

"_My_ attitude?" Barbossa demanded, hoisting himself abruptly to his feet and turning to face Sparrow. "_My_ attitude? Seems as if yer fergettin' whose attitude got us into this mess!"

Sparrow paused where he was about to flip open his compass and glanced at Barbossa in disbelief. "Surely you aren't suggesting..."

"Nay, I'm not _suggestin_' anythin'," Barbossa said caustically, moving closer to the shade where Jack sat. "I'm flat out tellin' yeh this be yer fault."

"_My_ fault?" Sparrow asked, obviously offended.

"Aye, if ye didn't disregard yer responsibility on yer day as captain and get completely lit, none of this would have happened," Barbossa answered. Sparrow opened his mouth to retort, but Barbossa wasn't finished. "Yer a poor excuse fer a pirate an' a worse one fer a captain, Jack Sparrow. If ye had half a mind to keep an eye on the crew..."

"I wouldn't have to keep one eye on the crew if they weren't so pissed off," Sparrow replied, climbing to his feet. "If you didn't bloody stomp around on your day as captain, making them undo everything I had them do on my day as captain, they wouldn't hate you so much."

Barbossa scowled. "They don't hate me," he snarled back.

"No?" Jack asked, and then swept an arm meaningfully at the expanse of beach, indicating that Barbossa wouldn't be there otherwise.

"Well, they don't hate me any more than they hate you...never gettin' around to any honest piratin'...always muckin' about worryin' about yer own hide."

"Someone's got to worry about it," Jack replied flippantly, "and they do hate you more."

"And I say they don't," Barbossa said, folding his arms firmly across his chest.

"Oh, but they do, mate," Jack replied, taking a step closer to Barbossa.

"Do not...they hate you more," Barbossa said back haughtily.

"Bloody hell if they do," Jack growled. "Besides, they hate your monkey."

Barbossa frowned again. "And just what's wrong with my monkey?" he asked, unable to keep from sounding a bit defensive.

Sparrow just couldn't resist the opportunity. "That's probably something you'd best ask that lady doctor you know," he said with a smirk.

Barbossa gave him a murderous look. "Quite amusin', Jack. At least the crew knows it's a lady I fancy."

Sparrow frowned. "And just what is that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, jus' that the crew talks..." Barbossa replied, smirking himself, "'bout the way yeh sway and sashay here and there..."

It was Jack's turn to be defensive. "I do _not_ sashay," he stated firmly.

Barbossa wasn't finished. "And the name doesn't help, Jack...how piratey is _Sparrow_ anyway?

"Better than being named _Hector_," Jack snarled back. "What was your poor mother thinking?" He muttered something else that Barbossa didn't quite catch.

"What?" Barbossa demanded.

"I said that the doctor probably mistook the retching sound your mother made upon seeing you as your name," Sparrow said, feeling pretty good about the insult.

Barbossa was infuriated. "You leave me mother out of this, Jack!" he snarled in Sparrow's face. "At least she didn't throw me off her ship!"

"My mother never threw me off a ship," Jack spat back.

"Nay, but yer father did...marooned you hisself if I recall," Barbossa said smugly, watching his comment hit home with Sparrow. "Shame I missed it...what I wouldn't give to 'ave seen old Teague toss yer sorry arse off the _Misty Lady..._"

Sparrow pouted. "It was only for three days..."

"I must admit, I envy Teague," Barbossa said.

"Why, pray tell?" Jack asked sarcastically. "He only threw me off his ship once...you've had the honor twice!"

"Ah, that I have Jack, but 'tis not the reason I envy yer sire," Barbossa said.

"No?" Jack asked, not sure he wanted to know the reason.

"No. I envy him because he had THREE...ENTIRE...DAYS...without havin' to put up with ye!"

"Well, aren't you just a clever old codger," Jack sneered back, and both men stared each other down for a moment before Barbossa snarled wordlessly and turned his back to Jack, folding his arms once more across his chest.

"You know," Jack said, after a moment of tense silence, "it's probably just at well that you got thrown off the _Pearl_ now, Barbossa. Heaven knows that at your age you'll probably wander off and forget where you moored her in another year or so."

He was already on the move with the last words, sprinting barefoot across the sand by the time Barbossa went for his sword.

--


	2. Chapter 2

Barbossa sat in the shade on a rock, whistling to himself as he worked on the small piece of wood he was carving. After a moment, he glanced up overhead at where Jack was perched out of reach. "Yer gonna have to come down at some point," he said pleasantly, scrutinizing his work and then re-applying the dagger to a corner.

"Think I'm doing just fine up here," Jack called down from where he was leaning back, wedged between the 'V' of two palms that had fallen together, with his arms folded behind his head.

Neither said anything else for several long minutes, and the only sounds were those of the breakers tumbling over the sand, and the cry of the seabirds that wheeled overhead, until suddenly Jack shouted.

"Oi! Is that a ship?"

Barbossa stood quickly and scanned the horizon, squinting after a moment when he could make out nothing, either nearby or in the distance. "I see no ship," he said with a frown, and then he glanced up to see which direction Sparrow was looking in.

He found Jack gazing down at him expectantly with a smirk plastered firmly across his lips. "Made you look," he said in a satisfied way.

Barbossa snarled wordlessly up at Jack, and sat back down under the tree, muttering to himself under his breath about his current lot in life.

Deciding to take his frustrations out on the younger pirate perched in the tree, Barbossa spoke again after a moment in a casual conversational tone. "Yeh know, I still fail to see why 'tis ye go by Sparrow," he said, a note of derision slipping into his voice.

"Why not?" Jack asked from overhead where he was now picking under his nails with the point of his own dagger. "We sparrows are a colorful and gregarious lot, quick, deft, well-traveled and widespread...why one might even say ubiquitous."

Barbossa snorted. "Aye, ye might say colorful and quick...but the crew would more say flamboyant and flighty," he said, taking some satisfaction in the frown that crossed Jack's features when he glanced overhead.

"Hector, you and I both know there is none aboard my ship...save for your scraggly-bearded self, who might have the faintest inkling what _flamboyant_ means," Jack said back knowingly.

"Ah, well, Jack, mayhap they not be familiar with the term, but the concept," Barbossa smirked, "now that ye've acquainted my crew thoroughly with."

"Yes, well I must write meself a reminder then," Jack said, mimicking holding a quill in the air. "Note to self: Find...new...crew...for..._my._..ship."

Barbossa rolled his eyes and shook his head, returning his attention to his carving and remaining silent.

"What," Jack called down after a moment, "no witty remark? No droll riposte?"

Barbossa replied haughtily. "I'll not be wastin' any more of me breath on the likes of you, Jack."

"A wise decision," Jack said back, causing Barbossa to glance up. "Heaven knows you have so little of it left at your advanced age."

Barbossa gave him a look that would kill, if such things were possible, but Jack didn't notice as he suddenly sprang to his feet, placing a hand against one of the trees for support, and shading his eyes with the other as he stared out at the cove beyond the beach.

"It's a ship!" he said.

Barbossa ignored him and flicked a few more fragments off the wood in his hand. "I'll not be fallin' for that again," he said. "Ye'll have to find another manner of amusin' yerself, Sparrow."

"No, Hector look…it's the _Pearl_!" Jack said.

Barbossa continued to pointedly ignore him as he carved, until Jack suddenly slid down the trunk and landed deftly on his feet and grabbed up his boots, heading for the beach. He frowned as he watched Jack hopping around to put them on, wondering what had gotten into the idiot now, until his gaze traveled past Sparrow to the small black silhouette that was rounding the point near the cove.

"Blast and bugger me!" Barbossa said, gaining his feet in an instant. "'_Tis_ the _Pearl_!" Dropping the chunk of wood he'd been carving, he quickly followed after Jack, both of them removing their hats and waving them to signal the ship.

It didn't take long for the _Pearl_ to drop anchor, and to the marked relief of both pirates, it appeared as though a boat had been lowered to the water, meaning that they'd only have a few more minutes to be stranded with only the other for company.

Gibbs was with the landing party as the boat ground into the sand, and he nimbly stepped ashore. "Captain..._s_," he said, enthusiastic but then wisely making sure he did nothing to offend either. "Apologies fer takin' so long, but we managed to put things right enough on the _Pearl_."

Jack planted his hat firmly back on his head. "Ah, well done, Mister Gibbs. I am prepared once again to take command of my lovely ship," he said striding forward toward the boat with purpose. He tripped, nearly falling a second later, as Barbossa stuck out a foot and then stepped ahead of him.

"Jus' point us in the direction of the scurvy bilgerat who tried to put me off of _my_ ship," he said in a way that caused the landing party to work quickly to launch the boat again.

When the boat came alongside the _Black Pearl_, Barbossa reached for the first rung of the ladder, but Jack quickly swatted his hand away and reached for the ladder himself, nearly gaining the first rung until Barbossa grabbed him by the coat with both hands and hauled him back into the boat. Barbossa once more reached for the ladder only to have Jack shoulder him aside roughly while the handful of crewmembers began sharing looks and the longboat rocked a little.

Barbossa shouldered him back roughly, causing the boat to rock again and grabbed the ladder. "Captain of the ship goes aboard first!" he snarled at Jack, who had recovered his balance and grabbed onto the same rung.

"The captain _is_ going aboard first!" Jack snarled back, leaning against Barbossa harder, trying to displace him. All hands in the boat unconsciously reached to steady themselves as the boat continued to rock and the two captains continued their shoving for a long moment.

Finally Sparrow sniggered.

"What be so amusin'?" Barbossa asked, still trying to wedge Jack away from the ladder.

"You've got a hull breach on your lower deck," Jack said, nodding downward.

Barbossa glanced down at the front of his breeches, and Jack managed to edge ahead of him as he discovered all was as it should be. He snarled wordlessly and then hauled himself up the ladder behind Jack.

When both had made the _Pearl_'s deck, Gibbs quickly scrambled up the ladder to join them.

"Mr. Gibbs," Jack growled, "bring me the festering maggot that thought he could throw me off my ship again."

"Aye," Barbossa said in agreement, "bring the mutinous wretch forth."

"Takes one to know one, ay, Barbossa?" Jack said sideways in an undertone while they waited.

Barbossa said noting but fastened an icy blue stare on Pintel as the men dragged him forward. "So, ye thought yeh'd like to be captain of a ship, did yeh?"

Pintel looked clearly ill at ease and smiled ingratiatingly. "I jus' thought I migh' like to see what it was like."

"D' yeh hear that, Captain Sparrow?" Barbossa asked sarcastically. "Master Pintel thought he'd like to experience bein' captain."

"Aye, I heard as much, Captain Barbossa," Jack said in reply, clearly non –too- pleased himself. "What say we make him captain of a ship, then?"

Barbossa glanced at Sparrow, having caught the slightest hint of amusement in his voice, as Pintel looked on nervously with the crew gathered around chattering in undertones as they watched to see what would happen.

"What have ye in mind, Captain Sparrow?" he asked, curious.

Jack flashed a subtle grin. "I say we make him captain of his very own vessel," he replied evenly.

"Ah," Barbossa replied knowingly, taking Jack's meaning and beginning to smirk. "I couldn't agree more with ye."

Dead silence instantly took command of the deck, and all eyes fastened themselves on the two captains.

"What?" Jack demanded, looking across the incredulous faces. "We agree on some things...occasionally...once or twice...maybe...erm...oh, bugger, at least on this!"

Barbossa nodded. "Aye, that we do," he said, stepping toward Pintel menacingly as he cringed.

--

Ten minutes later, Pintel sat with his arms folded petulantly across his chest as he sat in the dinghy trailing behind the _Pearl_.

"Could be worse, Pint," Ragetti said, from where he sat across from his uncle, cleaning off his eye before popping it back in his head.

"How's that?" Pintel grumbled.

"They might've not made ya captain....what?" Ragetti asked.

"You're an idiot," Pintel growled, swearing he'd never be involved in a mutiny again.

--

Back on deck, Barbossa, Sparrow and Gibbs watched the two arguing in the small boat beyond the ship.

"How long might we leave them there, sir..._s_?" Gibbs asked.

"At least until tomorrow," Jack replied, "and then we'll see if we're in the mood to let them back aboard..."

"Or just to cut the rope," Barbossa added wryly, eliciting a rare nod of agreement from Sparrow.

"Very well, then...Captains," Gibbs replied. "Might I trouble yeh for a heading?"

The span of a couple of heartbeats went by, and then he was suddenly shoved aside as each of the two captains each tried to dash for the helm, elbowing each other as they went, each trying to get to the stairs to the quarterdeck first.

He sighed and shrugged and turned to follow, thankful at least that things were back to normal.

Well, as normal as they ever got, aboard the _Black Pearl_.


End file.
